March 31, 2010 at 12:17 pm

Several years ago I was watching a TV show on healthy eating in which the host was playing a game with school children. He’d hold up a vegetable and ask the kids to name it. The results were rather sad. The kids couldn’t name some basic veggies. I was feeling rather superior, calling out “Asparagus!” and “Radishes!” with glee until the host picked up an odd, green leafy thing and I was stumped.

“It’s a leek!” he told the kids. I still didn’t understand what he meant. A leek? What the hell was a leek? I Googled it and discovered there was indeed a vegetable called a leek and according to this site it was related to the onion in some way. And now, Farm Fresh Delivery has dumped one on my doorstep. So I ask you, dear readers, what shall I do with my leeks?

March 18, 2010 at 11:49 am

By popular demand, last night I carefully documented the process of chopping and cooking the rainbow chard I received this week. “But PastaQueen,” you might say. “Those don’t look like your hands.” And I would say, “You think I don’t know the back of my hands like the back of my hand?” But I would also agree that, yes, those are not my hands. After feeling somewhat intimidated by staring at the chard on the bottom shelf of my fridge for several days, I decided to hand this project off to an expert, namely my mother.

As my mother commented last night, she has greatly neglected my culinary education. She grew up in a small town in southern Indiana where they had a vegetable garden in the back yard. Eventually her parents bought their own farm and the vegetable patch grew to be larger than the house. Because of this, she came to be very experienced in the art of washing and properly chopping vegetables, not to mention canning, peeling, and other lost art forms. So […]

Jennette Fulda tells stories to the Internet about her life as a smartass, writer, weight-loss inspiration, chronic headache sufferer, and overall nice person (who is silently judging you). She does this at JenFul now, but you can still have fun perusing her past here.

Disclaimer: I am not responsible for keyboards ruined by coffee spit-takes or forehead wrinkles caused by deep thought.